Stalemate
by Little Lunar Wolf
Summary: When playing the game, in order to win you first have to lose.


**Title:** Stalemate

**Author:** Little Lunar Wolf

**Rating:** K+

**Disclaimer:** The characters of NCIS don't belong to me and I take no credit. This piece is for the enjoyment of fans. No infringement is intended.

**Summary:** When playing the game, in order to win you first have to lose.

**Author's Note:** Post "Twilight", a year or so later. Haven't seen the eppy yet so I'm going on the information that Ari was responsible for Kate's death. It's from Gibbs' POV and will never really happen.

* * *

My hand tightens, arms locked firmly into place. Blue eyes glazed. Emotionless. He smiles crookedly, challenging me to squeeze the trigger.

Of like mind, or stances similar. I stare at him, my nemesis. His stubble mirroring mine. The white scar on his left cheek a reminder of how close I had been, not two months ago. The still healing knife wound on my hand rubs against metal, and I hate how we each claimed the other that night. Branded like cattle; owned by the other.

"Don't miss," he says nonchalance in his voice. I tilt my head slightly, considering his words. The game we play ends tonight, and we both know who'll win.

"I won't," I respond casually after a few seconds, a ghost of a smile on my face.

"Good" and then my finger comes down hard and fast. A flash and then I'm falling, gun clattering to the ground. Warmth ebbs out of my body, my surroundings become a blur. Crimson pooling on the cold concrete, the moon reflected in stark reality.

The night in the autopsy flashes before my eyes and this time I'm satisfied. A silent agreement among men had been made after our last encounter.

I turn my head slightly and see him, on his knees, his hand soaked in blood. He chuckles in defeat then meets my eyes and nods his head in acceptance. The path of two destinies merged into one.

The minutes pass slowly, the silence of the night pierced by our ragged breaths. His accented voice, the same one that had haunted my dreams for over a year, surprises me. "She loved you" he gasps, groaning with the effort.

I nod my head weakly. And as much as I want to believe him I can't. I won't. I was always a man who relied on the facts, not the second hand knowledge of a terrorist I'd hunted for over a year. This way of thinking had kept me safe from the guilt that had threatened to overwhelm me when the late nights seeped into the early mornings. The thoughts of what if haunted me enough. To be only a mere fantasy and not a possible reality made things slightly bearable.

It is only after a few minutes I realise that his breathing has ceased to cut through the silence along with mine. I take a shaky breath and await my inevitable fate. There's nothing to live for now. My destiny has been fulfilled. Tony will find a letter in my desk draw detailing everything he'll need to know. He'll make a good senior agent one day. Of that I have no doubt.

He'll eventually get over this night, just like he did that night from over a year ago. They all will. Life goes on after all.

I roll onto my back, hand clutched to my wound. More so, to hold onto something, then stop the bleeding. It occurs to me, as my breathing becomes more laboured, that someone will find my body, and I worry about the way they will find me. About the way _they_ will see me. It isn't till later that I convince myself they won't notice. All they'll know is I'm gone.

Time seems to move agonisingly slow. The light from the moon flitters to partially fall across my form. My thoughts drift to her. I'd vowed from the day of her funeral I would get him for her, at any cost. And I did that. It's only fitting my last thoughts are of her.

As I start to slip out of consciousness I see her. Perfect, just like the first day I saw her. There is no bullet hole, no blood. Her eyes aren't glazed, but lively and full of life. She's the Kate I remember.

I see her bent over me, smiling down as if she'd just floored me when we used to spar. Her bangs limply fall forward, her is hand outstretched. A sign of goodwill. I give her a look of amusement, and try to chuckle lightly. She just smiles in encouragement as I lift my hand and grasp hold.

**END

* * *

**

**AN2:** Wasn't too keen on posting this, but thought why not. Originally was going to be a drabble, but kind of went on and on and well on.

Reviews would be helpful. Thanks for taking the time to read.


End file.
